


sunflowers

by rmaowl



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftermath, Aftermath of Violence, Ants, Bad Poetry, Boys Kissing, Bugs & Insects, Cameras, Comfort, Comfort No Hurt, Complete, Cookies, Crying, Domestic Fluff, Dorkiness, Dorks, Dorks in Love, Emotional, Emotions, Eyes, Flowers, Fluff without Plot, Gardens & Gardening, Gentle Kissing, Gentleness, Gorgeous, Hair, Hands, Happy, Holding Hands, Hunk (Voltron) is so Pure, I Love You, Kissing, Living Together, Long Hair, Lovely, Made For Each Other, Men Crying, Multi, Nature, No Plot/Plotless, Normal Life, Patterns, Perfect, Photographs, Photography, Picnics, Pictures, Polyamory, Romantic Fluff, Sappy, Self-Indulgent, Sleep, Sleepiness, Sleepy Kisses, Sweet, Tears, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Video Cameras, i’m gonna write a baking fic about them feat. shipper colleen and her several strains of yeast, just u wait, ryan gets soft and very nearly cries over his signifs, they started out as baking buddies and then became something more
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 16:43:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17125001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rmaowl/pseuds/rmaowl
Summary: Everything feels so right, so complete, with the two of them around. They know each other inside and out. It's clear, now, that Hunk notices it when his fingers twitch in a slightly different way, wrapped around an unusual sort of trigger. Ryan notices it when Hunk gets wrapped up in unpleasant thoughts, his beautiful eyes glazing over; he does his best to pull him out of his head, creating whatever distractions he can muster up at a moment's notice. Romelle will jokingly coerce them into painting their nails when she deems a self-care day necessary. They work around each other, caught in orbit, their routines carefully shaped to incorporate their other parts.It's... it's. Nice.





	sunflowers

It's nice, to be able to sit in the vast garden of sunflowers in their backyard, watching the friendly ladybugs flit about. They don't have to worry about a thing anymore: nothing related to the imminent destruction of Earth, at the very least. Romelle rests her head on Ryan's chest, her hands curling into twitching fists as she yawns. Her petite body stays contained in his lap, one of his arms wrapped around her to keep her from slipping off, while the other seeks out Hunk's hand to hold. It's a sleepy, sunny Saturday afternoon. They don't have anywhere to be. They're allowed to relax into each other's touches and exist on a simpler, softer plane. Ants crawl over their toes, ticklish, innocuous.

 _This would be the perfect place for a picnic,_ Ryan muses, _or at least for some photos. Instagram-worthy shit._

Photographing his significant others has become a distinct thing and he'd capitalize the _t_ if he could. He has countless pictures of them eating up at his storage space, but damnit, they're so photogenic. They're so pretty, even if they don't realize it. He's going to make sure that they do: it's his job, in a way. He's gotta take care of them. They take care of him, too.

It's... it's. Nice.

Nice, like sleepy sunlight illuminating a field of sunflowers. Nice, like someone you love curled up in your lap, feeling safe enough to sleep. Nice, like holding hands in the grass and feeling strong urges to kiss the person next to you.

He can't kiss Hunk without running the risk of waking Romelle, though, and that's a true tragedy. Hunk seems so cozy, lit up from the inside out, the strands of his dark hair turning golden in the sun. His eyes alone make Ryan want to become a stupidly sappy poet who uses terribly illogical yet impossibly accurate descriptions: _they're mocha sunset, dark and elegant, ringed in drizzled honey, light and pure._ Hunk is perfect and Ryan really wants to kiss him yet he can't and though that is upsetting he is not going to pout over the inconvenience. It'd be dumb if he did.

So dumb.

Yeah.

But they're not in space, but they're allowed to let their guards down, but they're allowed to let their hearts melt, returning to being achingly soft and painfully in love with the people they surround themselves with, feeling the euphoric rush of clean air entering their lungs, _living living living._

It's a Saturday. Hunk gazes at him, fond yet searching, concerned. It's only now that Ryan realizes there are tears in his eyes. He shakes his head dismissively, says, "I love you."

And that's enough. Hunk smiles.

"Love you too."

Ryan reaches up to run his fingers through Romelle's hair, still supporting her the best that he can. He focuses on his breathing, taking in the scene around him. His fingers itch for a camera to hold, longing to immortalize this moment for himself to look back on, every wholesome detail made eternal. Sunflowers, ladybugs, ants. The two people he loves most.

It's nice.

Hunk frees his hand from Ryan's, pulling away, moving to get up. Ryan looks at him questioningly, tipping his head to one side. His eyebrows are furrowed.

"Be back in a second," Hunk whispers. It doesn't answer the question exactly, but Ryan nods anyway. His fingers continue to twitch, resting on the crown of Romelle's head, his elbow pressing against the middle of her back. His other hand lies uselessly in the grass as he awaits Hunk's return.

Romelle is slumped over on Ryan, her head positioned on his shoulder. Her neck'll hurt when she awakens, but she's peaceful right now. Her features are softened, lax and comfortable. She's utterly lovely. The sun makes her eyelashes glitter, swept across patches of pale blue. Ryan fights the urge to ghost his fingers along the edges of the triangular markings, so indicative of her Altean heritage. He loves her.

It doesn't need to be a professional camera anymore. His phone will do. Anything. Please.

The back door creaks open, graceless, as Hunk steps outside. He has a plate of sunflower seed cookies somehow balanced on one hand, made from the same sunflowers standing proudly around them. The other hand is wrapped around a camera's strap: Ryan's camera, of course. Hunk is as perceptive and thoughtful as always.

 _Picnic and pictures,_ Ryan thinks with a soft grin. Everything feels so right, so complete, with the two of them around. They know each other inside and out. It's clear, now, that Hunk notices it when his fingers twitch in a slightly different way, wrapped around an unusual sort of trigger. Ryan notices it when Hunk gets wrapped up in unpleasant thoughts, his beautiful eyes glazing over; he does his best to pull him out of his head, creating whatever distractions he can muster up at a moment's notice. Romelle will jokingly coerce them into painting their nails when she deems a self-care day necessary. They work around each other, caught in orbit, their routines carefully shaped to incorporate their other parts.

Ryan maneuvers awkwardly around Romelle in an attempt to photograph her as Hunk hands him the camera. It doesn't work as well as he would like; Romelle begins to grumble with malcontent, stretching and awakening. She goes abruptly silent as she spots Ryan above her, though, a small smile forming on her lips.

"Hi," she giggles. "Dork."

Ryan shoves her shoulder, a silent _shut up._ Hunk leans down to kiss Romelle. Ryan scoots backwards, his finger hovering above the shutter button. A _click_ permeates the soft air; a gorgeous picture of his significant others locked in a gentle kiss appears on his screen, backlit, all mocha-honey eyes and blue-green triangles, sunflowers and small bugs. The fluttering urge in his fingertips takes a backseat, satisfied.

Ryan smiles.


End file.
